Story Time
by Arlene
Summary: Alfred attempts to tell a bedtime story


Story time

Disclaimer: DC owns the characters. Not mine, never will be. No money is being made from this piece of fiction.

Story Time

By Arlene

"Time for bed, young sir. The Master tells me you've a big day tomorrow."

"Uh-huh. I'm going to start going to school at his old school."

"Ah, how exciting. You'll need plenty of rest then."

"Aw, Alfred! But I'm not tired yet. Hey! Can I hear a story?"

"*May* I hear a story."

"Oh. You wanna hear one too?"

Sigh. "No, I simply meant . . . You little rascal, you!"

Giggle. "Gotcha!" Another giggle. "Okay, okay. *May* I hear a story? Please?"

"Very well, since you've asked so politely. How shall we begin? Ah yes. Once upon a time, there were three little pigs--"

"Aw, Alfred! That's for little kids. My mom used to tell that one. How about something else with . . . dragons! Yeah!"

Sigh. "As you wish. Once upon a time, there were three, ah, children--"

"What about the dragon?"

"That's for later, young sir. This is only the beginning, you know. We must be patient."

"Oh, okay. I'll be patient. But can you hurry up and get to the dragon?"

"Well, if you'll stop interrupting, lad, I'll get there in due time. Ahem, the children's names were, ah, Wilfred, Winnifred and Fredrica."

"Ew! I don't want a girl story! And how come they all have Fred in their names? That's weird."

"Ah, yes, well, they were named after their grandfather, whose name was, erm, Frederick. And it is not weird. After all, you were also named after your grandfather, were you not?"

"Well, yeah, but--"

"Excellent. They decided to go out into the big wide world and build their own houses. The first house was made of thatch--"

"What's thash?"

"Thatch. It is reeds, rushes, leaves and straw."

"Straw? Hey, that sounds like the pig story! Their first house was made out of straw too."

"Did I *say* the children's house was made of straw? No. I said thatch. However, young man, if you wish to debate the semantics, we'll never get to the dragon."

"Some attics?"

"Se-man-tics. It's the meaning of something, the signifi-- It's what something means."

"Some-an-tics. What something means. Okay."

"They lived quite happily for a time, when suddenly, a big, mean dragon came along. He was hungry, and he wanted to eat the little children. So he went to their door and knocked--"

"Dragons don't knock."

"Ah, well, this one was raised properly and had manners, so he knocked. Just as all good children ought before entering a room."

"Good children? But you said it was a mean dragon."

"He was mean because he was hungry. But that's still no reason for being impolite. He then roared, 'Little children! Let me come in! I want to eat you!'"

Giggle. "I like it when you do funny voices."

"The children were very frightened. They had sense enough not to open the door to a stranger, just as they had been taught. So they ran out the back door, and the dragon was none the wiser. Hearing no response, the dragon huffed and puffed and blew the house down."

"But he's a dragon! Why didn't he just blow fire at it?"

"The fire would cause smoke, which would pollute the air, and that wouldn't be good for everyone else, now would it?"

"Oh. Okay."

"The children ran away and built themselves another house, but this time, they made it out of lumber. They knew the dragon would not be able to blow it down."

"Lumber's wood, right? But wood can burn--"

"Excellent point, but the children didn't know the dragon could breathe fire as he didn't do it the first time. When the dragon discovered their new abode, he went to the door and knocked. Then he roared, 'Little children! Let me come in! I want to eat you!' Again, they refuse him. At this point, the dragon was very hungry and decided to breathe fire. Well, since wood burns more slowly than thatch, the children ran out the back door safely."

"Whew! That's good."

"Indeed it was. For their third and hopefully last attempt, they built their house using concrete."

"Concrete's what the sidewalk's made of, right?"

"My, what a bright boy you are! Yes, the sidewalk is made of concrete, so it is extremely strong."

"I bet it's heavy, too."

"Yes, it is. So the children worked very hard and conscientiously, ah, carefully, for that is how things are done properly." Looks at clock. "The dragon finds them yet again, he knocks, he roars, he blows, he breathes fire, but nothing works. Deciding that being mean is not the way to get what one wants, he apologizes profusely for his previous behavior. The children accept his apology and have tea and crumpets with him so he's no longer hungry, and they become friends and live happily ever after. And it is at this point that we end our story and go to sleep."

Mumbles. "'Mnot sleepy."

"Of course not, young sir. You may stay up as late as you wish. You may even wait up for the Master. However, permit me to turn off the light so as to conserve electricity. There we go. I shall check with you in a few minutes to see if you'd like another story."

Mumble.

Whispers. "Good night, Bruce." Closes door.

End


End file.
